Spam Drabbles
by The Carrot
Summary: “Spike…” His low voice giving off an obvious warning; it was too early for this kind of torture, damn it. SpikexSam, Slash. Nine reasonably lenghted drabbles and one slightly longer one. #10 has Character death.


: D Heyo everyone. This is a couple of my drabbles, for Spike and Sam so I hope you enjoy them. My very own Spam!

This is Slash so if you don't like it, stay back. Thou hast been warned…also a few of them may not be actual drabble length… so I apologize in advance if you were looking for something short to read.

Also, I do not own Flashpoint, but I do own Nail and the lanky blonde chick from Season Threes' first episode.

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**1) Cooking:**

Sam never was one to cook; he could survive well enough on his own, but if it came to actually making a decent dinner for himself, the sniper was shit out of luck. And it was that knowledge that made him realize one day, when he opened the door to his refrigerator to look for something to eat and couldn't decide what he wanted to have more, that if the Italian man in the other room ever left him, he'd probably starve to death.

**2) Music**

He'd be the first to admit it. He hated country music. Hated it with a passion; hated with a capital 'H'! And after having been subjected to it day after day, minute after minute, second after second by his friends in the JTF-2; it was the only reasonable outcome. And as Brad Paisley reached his ears as he woke up, Sam slid into the kitchen with every intent to destroy the radio… but he paused in the doorway when he saw Spike dancing around his kitchen in nothing but a pair of pajama pants. Wrapping his arms around the dark haired mans stomach; Sam found he didn't mind the music so much when Spikes moans were there to drown it out.

**3) Concentration**

It was the way he looked when he was deep in thought. The way his brow would furrow when the answer to a question didn't come easy to him. How he chewed on his bottom lip and glared at whatever he was holding with a clear amount of frustration written on his face. It was the angry pout on his lips as he poured over his precious 'Baby Cakes' to pick the carpet out of her treads. There was just something about the way Spike looked when he was concentrating that had Sam stopping whatever he had been doing to watch.

**4) Cigarettes**

Sam didn't have a death wish… anymore. Not really…Just maybe slightly sort of. The sniper exhaled heavily letting the smoke curl out from between his lips with sinful ease. He didn't particularly like smoking, it didn't make him relax and he already had the 'cool pants' thing down according to the Serge, so it wasn't for that either. It was just something he did each day after everyone had left, as he leaned against the bike rack before heading home. He had a hunch Ed would kill him if he ever saw him smoking on SRU property. But the sniper just chuckled as he let his head roll back to stare up at the dark starless sky as he took another drag on his cigarette.

He thought he had almost picked out a star… or maybe it was a satellite, he wasn't sure… when he was jolted back to earth as someone picked the death stick from between his lips. Dropping his head in surprise, his gaze fell on a pissed off looking Spike who was crushing the rest of the cigarette beneath his sneaker. "Hey-!" Sam was cut off as the taller man stepped up in front of him bursting his personal space bubble. Blue eyes widened and Sam tried to take a step back, forgetting he was already leaning against something, causing the metal bar to dig into his back. The brunette leaned in pressing his body against Sams and the sniper felt his body freeze when Spikes lips landed on his.

It took a few seconds for the blondes' brain to catch up with his body and just as he went to deepen the kiss, Spike pulled away giving the blonde a flat look. Sam swallowed thickly staring up into dark eyes confused… pleased, but confused.

Spike smirked down at him wickedly and poked the younger man with the package of cigarettes he had just lifted from Sam's pocket. "Quit." He muttered simply, stepping back and turned around walking away.

Brain finally caught up now, Sam jerked back in embarrassment at having been caught so off guard, before realizing what his team mate had stolen from him. He jumped forwards a curse on his lips, only to have his body snap backwards by his wrist. His cheeks flushed a deep scarlet when he saw the pair of handcuffs keeping him attached to the bike rack. "Spike!" Sam snapped turning just in time to see the techie climb into his car, a small wave of his hand that was still holding his cigarettes was the only indication the blonde got that Spike had even heard him. "Give me those back- Unlock these! SPIKE! Get back here!"

**5) Spike**

"What is that?"

"What?"

"That!"

"Oh… like it?"

"Like it? ...What the fuck is it?"

"Shh, you shouldn't swear."

"…"

"Okay, Pot- Kettle- Black, I know, I know."

"What is it?"

"Can't you tell?"

"If I knew, I wouldn't be asking you, I'd just be standing here shaking my head instead."

"You already are shaking your head."

"And I'm asking you too, funny how that works."

"…It's a tattoo."

"No, shit…why of that?"

"Would you rather I got one that said 'Mom' like a sailor or something?"

"…Um, no?"

"…"

"…"

"Okay, what is this?"

"…It looks like a train spike… which again brings forth the question, why that?"

"What's here?"

"Your chest?"

"…under the skin."

"Muscle?"

"…Deeper."

"Your heart?"

"Yes. So put it together."

"Okay…You've got a spike over your heart?"

"Not over… which way is it facing?"

"In, but that makes even less sense. You've got a spike in your heart- Oh."

"Yeah, I've got a Spike in my heart."

"…"

"Are you crying?" D:

"Huh? Uh-NO!"

**6) Breakfast**

"This is going to be more like desert than breakfast." Sam muttered as he poured the chocolate syrup over the waffles in front of him disapprovingly.

Sitting on the counter next to him Spike grinned wickedly. "It's delicious, trust me."

Sending his boyfriend a dubious look, the blonde set the bottle back on the counter with a bit more force then necessary, causing a thick glob of the syrup to cover his fingers as it shot out of the bottle. "Ack, Gross." Holding his hand out in front of him, Sam took a step to the side, heading for the sink on the other side of Spike, but was stopped as a hand shot out to grab his wrist pulling him against the counter.

Sam's free hand shot out grabbing the countertop to steady him self just as he felt Spike wrap his legs around his middle, keeping the blonde firmly in place in front of him. Blue eyes glanced up with a frown asking the silent question of 'What the hell?'

The techie grinned widely. "This is the best part of this meal." He muttered his tone sending shivers up Sam's spine.

Sam's mouth went dry and he inhaled sharply as Spikes lips covered the tip of his index finger slowly licking off the chocolate syrup that was trailing down his hand. The sensation against the pads of his fingers sent a bolt of hot pleasure straight down his spine. "Spike…" His low voice giving off an obvious warning; it was too early for this kind of torture, damn it.

But the brunette just ignored him, concentrating instead on getting the last bit of sauce off his boyfriend's finger.

Bare feet tried taking a step back, but failed when Spike locked his ankles behind Sam's back and his free hand grabbed onto the blondes other wrist keeping him pressed flush against the countertop. That was one thing Spike loved about Sam. His hands were his weak spot; and it annoyed the blonde that Spike knew this and took full advantage of it whenever possible.

Sam bit his bottom lip to keep the embarrassing noises in his throat down, just barely succeeding when the brunette gave a playful nip to his index finger before moving to his middle. He felt his hand twitch against the counter as the older man held it down next to where he was sitting. "Spike…" It was that warning again, this time laced with a bit more lust then he would have liked.

Molten eyes looked up briefly from his task and Spike could visibly see the effect he was having on his boyfriend. The darkened blue eyes and tight expression he wore trying to hold back the sounds that wanted to escape his lips; sounds that Spike was just dying to hear. Switching tactics, the techie moved Sam's wrist lower, letting him take the last two chocolate covered fingers into his mouth, his tongue dancing over the tips of them.

"GoddamnitSpike!" Sam snapped, thankful now, that Spikes legs were wrapped around his waist, it seemed to be the only thing holding him up as his knees gave out beneath him. He let loose another low hiss, his hand on the counter balled up into a tight fist, his knuckles going white.

The older man chuckled to him self; the vibrations of the sound traveling right though Sam's fingers and right to his last rubbed raw, nerve. "fuckitspike!" Spike just smirked letting Sam's hand slip from his lips as he tried giving the blonde his best innocent What-did-I-do-wrong face.

'Unfortunately-nothing' was Sam's answered glare letting his hand, now free of chocolate, drop to Spikes thigh roughly pulling him closer to the edge of the counter. It barely took a second before Sam had Spike's lips submissively under his own, his tongue probing into the others mouth to taste the last bit of the chocolate syrup.

**7) Neat**

The first time Spike tried Sam's drink, it ended just plain badly.

The second time he tried it, he ended up hitting on Greg. Much to Sam's annoyance.

The third time he tried it, Spike ended up winning a karaoke contest. Much to everyone's annoyance.

The fourth time, the blonde had to physically drag the half conscious SRU agent out of the bar and to his truck.

The fifth, Sam remembered exactly why he kept letting Spike take his drink in the first place as the obviously inebriated man trailed hot kisses down the side of his neck.

**8) Pets**

Sam frowned as he sat down on one of his dining room chairs staring at the soaked fur ball at his feet with confusion. The small little kitten was currently devouring a can of tuna that the blonde had found in the dark recesses of his cupboard. Outside the rain beat heavily against the window and the wind howled mercilessly giving the entire city of Toronto a taste of the spring soon to come. And of course, the blonde had been caught in the middle of it halfway home. Sam had taken cover under a slightly convenient awning in front of a nearby restaurant when he had seen it… or more correctly them.

A pair of sad chocolate brown eyes that looked up at him pitifully as its tiny form gave out a mournful mewl, and Sam felt his heart nearly break. The sniper was never an animal person, he liked dogs' fine enough but when it came to pets his father had always given him a stern final no on the subject. But there was something about this particular ball of fluff with four legs that made him lean down and scoop the kitten up into his arms.

Blue eyes watched amused as the tiny animal licked the plate clean its eyes looking up at him with a happy look. Taking the towel off of his shoulders the man chuckled as he reached down picking the kitten up and nestling it into the damp fold of the fabric. Sam smiled as the ball of fluff sneezed while he rubbed the water, dirt and grime from its fur.

Deciding it had had enough towel time the kitten jumped from his lap, landing on the tiled floor slipping slightly and the sniper's breath caught in his throat. Where fur that had once been darkened with so much water and mud now gave way to beautiful brown fur. For some reason the colour looked very familiar to him. Cocking his head to one side Sam let out a sigh as the kitten licked its paw. "Guess you're mine for the night."

A month later, Sam stood under the hot spray of his shower rolling his joints, wincing at the pain that shot through him from his dislocated shoulder. He had popped it out of place when he shoved Wordy out of the way of a large, drugged up muscle builder with a gun who had shot at them. Suffice to say the idiot was now on a very cold table downtown, thanks to Ed, and Sam had been given a few days off to make sure his shoulder healed. But after one whole day of sitting, resting, the blonde would much rather be back at work, in pain or not, he was bored.

The sniper looked down at the feeling of wet fur rubbing against his leg. "Nail, really, I've only been in here for ten minutes." He stated giving his cat a flat look as it nudged its head against his leg again. Sam shook his head; he had been under the impression that cats hated water. But his retarded thing had to actually like it and felt the need to join him in the majority of his showers. It had given him the creeps at first but he resigned himself to the fact that she would join him even if he kicked her out or not…as pervious scratches to his hand had proved.

Shutting off the water and throwing the towel around his waist the two stepped out of the tub. Quickly drying off and tugging on a pair of jeans Sam threw the towel over his head and examined the bruise on his back in the mirror. The outline of the table he had crashed into as he hit the ground was clearly visible above the scars he had gotten in the army.

Dropping the towel onto the brown cat at his feet Sam made his way into the kitchen but paused halfway as the doorbell echoed around his apartment. Switching destinations Sam opened the door, surprised when he saw Spike standing in front of him.

Spike felt his jaw drop as his eyes raked over the half naked blonde in front of him, his mouth going dry and his words failing him as brown eyes traced a drop of water sliding down his chest.

"Spike?" Sam felt his cheeks burn.

Oh god he was staring. Spike jumped holding up the case in his hands. "I-I know you have a few days off, and I have today off! So-" he paused making sure his gaze was anywhere but on the man in front of him. "So I figured we- we could…hang out and play… this…" his voice trailed off and Spike was pretty sure his inner voice was screaming at him.

Sam looked at the case before taking it from his team mates' hand as he let the older man into his apartment. "Call of Duty, Modern Warfare 2?" the sniper looked over at Spike as he shut the door. "You know I don't have a PS3-" he trailed off seeing the brunette hold up the bag at his side. "Oh."

The techie laughed seeing the others surprised face. "I thought it was time to share the amazingness that is this game."

The blonde grinned setting the game down on his coffee table. "You can set it up out here, I'm… going to go put on a shirt." Sam turned on his heel heading for his room.

Kneeling down next to the TV Spike had just taken the console out of his bag, when suddenly a streak of brown shot by his face and he felt something sharp dig into back. Letting out a painful yelp Spike tried to dislodge whatever was stuck to him but only managed to trip onto his face.

As fast as he could Sam found himself throwing on a clean t-shirt, before scrambling out of his room and into the living room at the sound of his friends shout. "Spike, are you alright-" he stopped in the doorway blinking as a pair of innocent brown eyes looked up at him almost as if they were saying, 'look what I caught' from their spot of Spikes back.

With a wry chuckle Sam strode forward picking the kitten up with his good hand and depositing her onto the couch. Holding out a hand Spike took it as he carefully pulled the other wide eyed man to his feet. "You okay?"

"What was that?" Spike asked his hand going to his back and coming back with a bit of blood on his fingers.

Sam grimaced guiltily. "That was Nail, Sorry." He motioned to the kitten which had moved onto the coffee table before tugging the back of Spikes shirt down to see several cuts that had just started to bleed. "Come on, we should clean those."

Dabbing the alcohol swab gently across one of the deeper claw marks, Sam winced when the muscles in his shoulder pulled, as he tried to clean one of the higher cuts.

Spike who sitting on the edge of the tub, glanced up warily at the cat that was perched on the sink, it seemed content to follow her owner and his new visitor around. "When did you get a cat?"

Sam tossed the swab into the garbage can tearing his eyes away from the tan skin under his fingers. "About a month ago, when we had that storm I found her outside and for some reason she hasn't left yet." He explained watching amused as Spike and Nail had something close to a staring contest. "Her names Nail."

"Suits her." Spike muttered as Sam stuck a Dora band-aid to his back.

The two sat on the couch as the score for the round was tallied up once more, but it was obvious who the clear winner was.

"Are you sure you've never played this game before?"

The blonde smirked. "Just once." He confessed. "In real life." And it was true; a lot of the things in the game were eerily similar to the real thing. And he defiantly hadn't frozen for a minute when Spike managed to shoot his character with its assigned .50 cal.

But the brunette just grumbled under his breath as the scores flashed across the screen, Sam winning by nine kills. However the complaint didn't last long as Nail jumped up on the only seat left on the couch next to Spike, who shifted sideways to avoid it accidentally bumping into Sam's leg that was pulled up on the cushion. "You're cat creeps me out."

His brain at least had the mental capacity to tell his face to smile, instead of focusing on the warm back pressed against his leg and the funny tingling sensation it caused. "You get used to it." Sam grinned as the doorbell went off again. "That would be Lou and Jules." Thankful for a reason to get up Sam left the brunette alone on the couch with the fur ball that Spike would swear was grinning evilly at him.

It was Jules that mentioned it as he strode into the kitchen next to her to get more beer. She stopped in the doorway looking back at Lou who was watching his friend who was currently engaged in another staring contest with Nail. The cat had barely left the techie's side, even helping the brunette get blown up by Sam when it swung its paw out at the joy stick.

"Did you ever notice how much your cat looks like Spike?"

Sam, who had just opened the refrigerator door, froze. That was it. Why he got that familiar feeling the first few times he looked at the feline. Those chocolate brown eyes that just seemed so lovable; they were the same shade as the Italians. And he was pretty sure if he could get Nail next to Spikes head the colour of her fur and his hair would match pretty well too… Nail…Spike… Crap, even their names were similar.

Coughing to hide the awkward pause Sam straightened up, his shoulder flaring with pain. "No, I never noticed. That's weird." He grabbed one of the beers, the twist off cap going into the sink and downing a good majority of it before heading back into the living room.

Jules just stood there shaking her head. "Men."

**9) Morning**

Sam was usually the first one awake. It was rare that Spike was up before the ex-army brat, and even rarer still when the brunette got to witness his boyfriends actual sleeping face. Often times Sam would pretend to sleep just to humour the other man, but Spike can always tell when he was faking it just from the few times he has seen him truly asleep. He knows the difference because Sam is energy and energy always has to be moving. And unless the blonde has had an extremely hard day, he's tossing and turning or moving around in his sleep. But when he pretends to sleep he stops. And Spike laughs to himself as he pokes the still blonde at his side, causing tired blue eyes to crack open and give him a sleepy look. Suddenly the brunette is thankful that Sam is always moving, always showing signs of life, because when he's perfectly still, it scares him. So for good measure Spike always pokes him in the ribs, just to see him move again.

**10) Ghosts**

The apartment was quiet save for the sounds coming from the street below coming in through the open window. The suitcases lay at the foot of the bed fully packed, waiting there like an obvious purple elephant that didn't want to be pointed out. Spike sat on his side of the double bed, newspaper curled in his hand as he stared at the front page his expression unreadable. But the tears streaming down his cheeks were enough for anyone to tell how he was feeling.

Next to him Sam sat, staring at the wall in front of him. "Spike-" He was cut off as the brunette shot to his feet, throwing the paper in his hands against the wall and heading for the foot of the bed. "Spike!" Blue eyes watched helplessly as Spike grabbed two of the smaller suitcases and strode out of the room only pausing to grab the keys to their car.

Sam was on his feet seconds after he heard the door shut behind his boyfriend. "No…Please, don't do this." He whispered to himself as he ran down the two flights of stairs just in time to see the dark haired man climb into the drivers' seat. "SPIKE!"

His words feel on deaf ears as Spike backed up and peeled out onto the street. As fast as his legs would carry him Sam ran after the red tail lights of the car.

Spike rubbed at his cheek, angrily brushing the tears away before lifting his hand up to readjust the mirror that reflected the empty road behind him. The radio was turned up loud, stuck on the last station 'he' had switched it too. Damn it, how could Sam do that to him!

The green traffic light switched straight to red and Spike slammed on his breaks in surprise just as Sam ran out onto the road. But the light had changed too quickly, and Spike felt the breaks seize beneath his foot. The large eighteen-wheeler coming down the hill saw him too late, and the front of the truck crashed right into the drivers side of the small silver car.

Sam fell to his knees in the middle of the road. All around the sidewalks people gathered, mumbling quietly, some screaming at the sight of the mangled cars, but they all seemed to fade away as a highly confused Spike stood up from the wreckage.

Brown eyes finally landed on the form of his boyfriend in the middle of the road before Spike calmly walked over to him and Sam shot to his feet wrapping his arms around the brunettes' waist holding him close.

"Why?" The blonde shook his head as Spike wrapped his own arms around his neck. "I don't understand… you could have lived."

Spike leaned back to look at the watery blue eyes in front of him. "Not without you." He whispered back his lips ghosting over the other mans. "Without you, that's not living." Their lips met softly as the two disappeared from the middle of the street just as the ambulance arrived.

And silently, back at their apartment, a breeze came in through the open window causing the pages of the newspaper Spike had thrown, to flutter open to the front page. The headline baring the words 'Tragic end to shoot-out' could be read, a picture of Team One standing in the small town of Aurora below the highlighted words.

And just under that, was a picture of Sam and a small little caption…

'Cons. Sam Braddock of the Strategic Response Unit, formerly of the Canadian Forces JTF-2, was involved in a shoot out with known drug dealer Tyrone Betting on Tuesday, before being shot and killed.'

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And that's all she wrote folks! I know what you're thinking… Thank god. –laughs- anyway please click that purple button down there. I'd be so happy.


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